My body has always been my last bastion of strength. Metaphorically, I used to hold it as a fortress that protected what was inside of me. Now, I see it as the sturdy vehicle which carries precious cargo. Nevertheless, when my body hurts and needs to heal, it leaves me in a supreme place of vulnerability. Because if all else failed, I could always turn to my body to take care of me. But not today, because my back is temporarily not cooperating with the rest of me. I’m lying down, resting, icing, and heating it. So I feel particularly vulnerable right now. And I need to share something. I just got back from a funeral service. A woman who I have come to know, respect, and love lost her son in a car accident last Friday. Karen Kelley is one of the most beautiful, caring, loving, warm, accepting, healing souls I have ever known. I didn’t know her son Jordan. But from knowing Karen, and from what I heard and saw today, it’s clear to me that her son’s short life impacted many people in profound ways. Because he was loved. Deeply, and by many. Because he made a difference in countless people’s lives by being himself. He gave his unique gift of self to anyone who wanted it. And it showed. So forgive me if I sound preachy. I don’t mean to be. But at this moment, the only piece of anything I can glean from where I’m at and what I’ve experienced is this: if you love someone, let them know it. If they can’t hear you, say it a little louder until they do. If they can’t see it, make it a little clearer until they can. If they can’t feel it, find ways to touch them so that they will. If you feel it, deal it. If you know it, show it. If you know it’s in you but you can’t find it, look harder. Find it if it’s there. No matter what. That’s it.